


My Take on S4 Script

by DaringlyDomestic



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:35:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6465196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaringlyDomestic/pseuds/DaringlyDomestic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's got Garridebs, it's got death, it's got redemption. Come one, come all!</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Take on S4 Script

**Author's Note:**

> This is a trailer-style overview of what I think a satisfying S4 episode might look like.

*gunshot rings out*

Sherlock screams (a la Reichenbach): “John!”

Cut to:

We hear the steady beat of an ECG and the constant whoosh of a ventilator.

We see Sherlock seated next to a hospital bed. A long hand is on his shoulder. An umbrella is hooked on the back of the chair. Neither brother speaks.

Cut to:

A dark alley. Sherlock is on his knees digging through a pile of rags. His face and neck are streaked with blood. His hands are dripping with it. The pile of rags shudders.

Sherlock’s motions become gentle, less frantic. His hands find John’s face. His eyes are closed and unmoving. Sirens sound In the distance. Sherlock leans in close. He speaks desperate and low.

Sherlock: “Please, just one last miracle, John. For me. Don’t be…dead.”

Cut to:

The paramedics roll the gurney away quickly. John’s lifeless hand slips from Sherlock’s outstretched hand. He doesn’t lower the arm until the ambulance is out of sight.

Cut to:

Sherlock stands alone in front of a shiny new headstone. His head is bowed.

John (V.O.): “I was so alone and I owe you so much.”

Sherlock cries. Not big wrecking sobs, just tiny silent rivulets. A hand reaches out and winds itself around Sherlock’s. Sherlock turns to face his companion. His face is a kaleidoscope of emotion, unguarded and unfiltered in a way he seldom is. A left hand, the one not clasped tightly in Sherlock’s, comes up to wrap itself in dark curls.

(V.O.) “I wasn’t sure this would be a good idea. After all, they never really existed.”

Sherlock: “They were real to us.”

We see the headstone clearly now and there are two names there:

Mary and Elizabeth Harriet Watson.

Finally, we see Sherlock’s companion’s face. Of course it’s John. His hair is almost fully silver now, but his face looks younger than it has in years. He smiles softly at Sherlock through his own tears.

John (affectionately): “You’ve always known me better than I know myself, you mad bastard.”

Sherlock chuckles, but the sound is cut off by the gentle, insistent press of John’s lips against his own. He closes his eyes and leans into the kiss. John’s hand grips his curls and the sunlight gleams off of the slim platinum band on his finger, different in every way from the cheap gold ring he had shared with Mary.

After what seems like an eternity, Sherlock pulls back. He runs his finger along John’s cheek, catching tears.

Sherlock: “I’ve filled your life with so many ghosts. I am sorry, John.”

John: “From the moment I met you, there was never anyone else. With you alive, they were always going to be phantoms. Mere glimmers of the blazing glory of loving you.”

Sherlock’s left hand shoots up to rest openly against John’s chest, lightly monitoring each thump-thump of his heart. We see a matching platinum band on his finger.

Sherlock searches for something to say but can’t find any adequate words. His hand squeezes John’s rightly in acknowledgement.

John: “Let’s go home, love.”

Sherlock nods.

Cut to:

John and Sherlock exit a cab. Sherlock marches ahead to unlock the door as John pays the cabbie.

Mrs. Hudson (V.O.): “Just look at the state of my floors! Where have you boys been? Tracking mud all up and down my stairs. I’m taking this out of your rent!”

The door to 221B swings shut and we hear TITLE MUSIC.


End file.
